


promise me you’ll stay beyond the sunrise

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Coming Out, Dysphoria, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Mentions of Sex, Trans Alexander Hamilton, Trans Character, no actual sex though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 13:36:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10832358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Alex is beautiful.He knows that.But he does not want to be beautiful.(or, the fic where Alex comes out to Eliza as trans)





	promise me you’ll stay beyond the sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> Slight tw for dysphoria if that bothers you!!

Alex is beautiful.

He knows that. Everyone tells him that. It's what his mother called him when he was young. It's what Eliza called him when they laid awake late at night, slowly exchanging kisses to each other's faces. It's what John calls him when they dress up for some formal event or another. Alex knows it's meant to be a compliment. It just doesn't _feel_ that way. Something about that word makes his skin itch. When he thinks of the word beautiful, he thinks of those Covergirl models. He thinks of long, flowing hair. He thinks of sparkly dresses that drape against the elegant curves of one’s body. He thinks of a girl. The word feels so feminine to him. It's such a stupid stereotype, he knows that, but he can't shake off the definition he's given that word. Beautiful is feminine. Alex does not want that. He does not want to be beautiful. 

He stares in the full-body mirror in his and Eliza's bedroom, his oversized, forest green t-shirt discarded in a crumpled ball on the floor. His bra is there too—a white, lacy one that Eliza gave him for their anniversary. He looks at his face, smooth and lacking the scruffiness it should have. He looks at his hair, cringes inwardly at the way it's beginning to cascade down his shoulders. He looks at his shoulders, how they're slim and narrow. He imagines for a moment what he'd look like with broad shoulders, shorter hair—maybe even a goatee to go with it. But for now, he has to settle for this. He tries to avoid looking at his chest, but as always, his eyes trail back to it. He hates his chest so much. He hates the way his breasts look. He's lucky to have relatively small ones, but they're still… _there._ His chest isn't flat. This isn't how he should look. 

Eliza likes to call them that word. Beautiful. If she were here now, she would approach him from behind and slide her hands up his sides (he hated his sides too, they were so curvy.) She'd cup them in her hands as she kissed the back of his neck. _My beautiful girl,_ she'd whisper into his ear, and Alex would shudder at the way her breath felt against him. He had always been her beautiful girl. If only he could tell her, “No. I am not beautiful. I am not your beautiful girl.” But he can't. She would never love him that way. 

He shakes his head, pushing the thoughts of Eliza away. His eyes trail down to his waist, where his jeans hang just a little below his hips. He can't bring himself to take them off. He doesn't like to think about what's under there; how it isn't _right._ None of his body is right, really—but he hates this part the most. No matter how hard he tries, his thoughts trail back to Eliza. He likes the way she touches him, the way her fingers are gentle against his smooth skin. But now, when he imagines Eliza's hands down there, he can't help but shift uncomfortably, his eyebrows furrowing. This isn't the right body. He shouldn't look like this. He _knows_ he's a boy. Why does he have to have a body like this? What happened that made him this way? How would he ever tell Eliza that he was a boy? It seemed like a ridiculous concept. Eliza wouldn't love him if he was a boy. She likes his body. She likes his breasts, his curves, his hair...everything he hates. 

He jumps when he hears the sound of footsteps downstairs. Eliza is home from work. He wants to pick up his shirt and put it back on, but he's frozen in place. He stares into his own eyes in the mirror. It's only a matter of time before he hears his name.

“Alexandra, I'm home!”

There it is. He hates that name. Mostly everyone calls him Alex, but Eliza prefers his full name. She likes the way it rolls off of her tongue. Alex hates it, but he can't bring himself to tell her. Alex hears the footsteps get louder, and soon enough, Eliza is pushing the door open and entering the room. Alex’s arms bolt up to cover his chest, almost as if he's trying to hide something he's done wrong. He doesn't want Eliza to see him. She'll call him beautiful, she'll call him her baby girl. It's not what he wants. Of course, Eliza notices the way he tenses up at her presence.

“Hey, is something wrong, baby?” She asks, approaching Alex and resting her head on his shoulder from behind. Alex doesn't reply, he just pulls his arms against his chest tighter. The pressure hurts, but he doesn't care. 

“Tell me what's going on, beautiful,” she pleads, and Alex feels his face start burning. He can't do this. His shoulders shift up protectively, causing Eliza to back up a bit.

“I'm not beautiful,” he says, though his voice is so soft that it's barely audible. He doesn't know why he's complaining. If he says too much, she'll know, and she'll hate him. Eliza replies with a worried gasp, and she immediately tries to console him by wrapping her arms around his waist. 

“You are the most beautiful person I've ever met, baby girl,” she says reassuringly, and Alex can't handle the nickname. It's too much. His shoulders start to shake, and he lets out a few choked sobs. He hangs his head low, his hair falling in front of his face. Eliza rushes to the other side of him. She cups his face in her hands and starts to pepper his face with kisses.

“‘No, no, no,” Alex cries, shaking his head. His legs have started to shake too, and he feels like a mess. “I'm not—not beautiful. Not your baby girl,” he whimpers as Eliza pulls her hands away and ceases the kisses.

“Tell me what's bothering you. Is it something I did? Alexandra,—” Eliza is cut off when Alex sinks to the floor, covering his ears with his hands.

“ _That’s not my name!_ ” He screams, and after the words leave his mouth, his hands are over it, shaking so badly that Eliza is genuinely afraid. She kneels down and takes his hands in hers, squeezing them gently.

“I thought you liked it when I called you that, sweetheart. What's wrong?” She tried again, and Alex feels like he has to tell her everything. He can't spend another second hiding this from her. It'll kill him.

“My name—it's Alexander. Alex. I...I'm a boy. I don't want to be b-b...beautiful,” Alex responds, and he nearly bursts into a new wave of sobs as he says the last word. Eliza doesn't reply for a moment, she's too busy comprehending what he just said.

“I get it, you hate me, I'm sorry,” Alex says as quickly as he can, pulling his hands away from Eliza and standing up, turning around to leave the room. When he leans back down to pick up his shirt, Eliza grabs his arm in both of her hands. Alex looks at her hesitantly, afraid to see her face. He's surprised to see her smiling at him.

“What can I do for my handsome boy to help him feel better?” She asks, and Alex doesn't waste a moment before settling himself in her arms.

“You don't hate me?” He asks, and she nods, her gaze soft and sweet.

“I could never, my love,” Eliza whispers, and Alex knows it's the truth. Of course she still loves him. She always will. Alex sits up for a moment to pull his shirt back on, and then he relaxes himself in her arms again.

“I love you, Eliza,” he murmurs, and Eliza can't help but giggle at the way he's practically buried his face into her shirt.

“I love you too, Alexander.”

**Author's Note:**

> hey yknow if you liked this you can hit me up on my [tumblr](https://disillusion-al.tumblr.com/) because i NEED FRIENDS


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